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User blog:TKandMit/Grand Theft Wiki: Wonderful
The sedan careens down the road, turning into another alley. Eventually parking, Gregory emerges with the bag and approaches the foreclosed warehouse he came to visit. Taking a key out of his pocket, Greg frees the padlock from the door handles and kicks the door open. “Matt! I got the cash.” “I’m up here!” a voice rings out as a flashlight shines high on the wall in front of Greg. “The stairs are over there,” it chimes again as the light travels to a corner of the warehouse. After closing the doors, Greg starts his climb up the stairs, then approaches a room labeled ‘Office’. Opening the door, he finds his friend at the computers. “Hey, Matt. Here it is.” He states, dropping two plastic bags of cash on his desk. Filing through the money, Matt exclaims “Yes, yes… good, just over $4,000. I heard you hit one of the most visited gas stations in all of Wikia City. Heh, how wonderful, Greg. And I saw your car outside, must’ve been a hard getaway, huh?” Matt asks with a smirk, stacking the money and opening a new tab on his computer screen. “No, actually. The hits went off without a hitch. My car’s fucked up because I ran into a bunch of cops that weren’t even chasing me. That’s why it took me so long to get here; I ended up helping some biker dude.” Greg explains, revealing his pistol magazine to be out of ammunition. Two hours earlier. “Well, hang in there cuz! I’ll see in an hour give or take!” Tim said, hanging up as Tyger pulled into the hospital parking lot. Taking a left, Tim found himself on a busy city street, now driving along other cars. Looking back, he let off some shots at the police cars, one ramming a sedan’s tail lights. “Holy fuck!” Greg yells, sinking in his seat to avoid the bullets flying. “Fucking shit, I just got rear ended!” Greg rolls down his window, shooting at the squad cars beside him. “They’re after this biker guy…” Greg notices, sitting up right again and following the motorcyclist. Eventually, Tim pulls over under an overpass. Getting off his motorcycle, he unbags his shotgun and lets off some shots at the cops following him. After killing three cops and being alone at last, Tim takes a breath and leans on his bike. “Fucking hell, how did I get out of that…” he asks himself, as he hears a gun cock behind him. “Police Captain Piet; on the ground now, or I blast your brains out, you scum. Drop the weapon, get on your knees, and put your hands behind your back.” Reluctantly dropping the shotgun, Tim gets on his knees. “Fuck. Okay. You win. Just cuff me already, you pig.” He complies, feeling the cold steel lock on his right wrist. “You’re going to jail for a long ass time. You’ve killed a lot of good men, you asshole. The only thing keeping me from killing you myself is my professionali-GAH!” The captain yells over a gunshot, falling to the ground and grabbing his neck, bleeding profusely. “Who the fuck…?” Tim asks, startled, rising to his feet. Spotting a suited man come from behind a squad car with a pistol, he shoots the fallen officer in the head to finish him off. “Hey. Name’s Greg. Quite the shitlist you made, huh? What’re all the pigs chasing you for?” Tim kneels down to reach his shotgun. “Don’t. I’m not a threat.” The man tells him. “Now, what were they chasing you for?” Tim stands back up and looks at the man in the eyes. “Gang war. I killed a fuckton of those Marauder gangstas. Why the fuck do you care and what is stopping us from shooting each other right the fuck now?” He states as the man smirks. “My name’s Greg. I care because you seem to be good at getaways, as well as a good shooter. Look, I’m on my way to a warehouse to discuss some things about my life of crime. Possibly heists and shit. Interested?” Greg asks, putting his hand out. Tim ponders. “Heists, huh? Fucking wonderful… shit. You know, I may be in trouble with the banks. My father’s business is what I’m running and he’s recently passed. All our money is in his account and… shit. I need to go to the fucking hospital… Greg, deal.” He says, grabbing his hand and shaking it quickly. “But I gotta go, right the fuck now. Come to Neil’s Motors in Flynnwood sometime tonight and we’ll talk then.” Tim says, getting back on his bike and driving off. Now. “Neil’s Motors, huh?” Matt asks, searching it on his computer. “Ah, yes. Ran by Neil and Tim Kelly. I assume this ‘dude’ you met is Tim. How many officers did you say he capped?” He asked, turning back to Greg. “Lost count. He took three out in seconds with a shottie, but he definitely clipped some while he was driving a motorcycle. And I’m sure with his gang war that he killed far more. And damn, his bike was fast as fuck; I could barely keep up, almost lost him a few times. He’d be great for our heists.” Matt nodded. “Stay wise and alert. Make sure he’s not a trigger happy psychopath or some shit or another. I’ve seen it happen before.” Greg replied, “Well, I told him not to go for his gun and he immediately complied. I see what you mean though. I’ll be talking to him tonight. Learn some shit about him.” And. “Your cousin is in severe condition. However, he should be out in several weeks to a month. According to your friend, Tyger, this happened from a… gun range accident? Well, good to know you made it here before he bled out. I’ll contact you soon to let you know about Daniel’s progress to recovery. Good day, Timothy.” Doctor Lak informed Tim and Tyger. Walking away, the two conversed through whispers. “How the fuck did you get away from the cops, Tim. I swear you would’ve been dead or in a cell by now.” Tyger asked. “Well… I would have. I met someone. Saved my fucking ass from about three lifetimes in prison. Clean yourself up and come to my place tonight and we’ll talk to him.” “Wait, who the fuck? Are you sure? How do you know it’s not just some dude that’ll kill us both?” Tyger asks, alarmed from the news. “Because he fucking saved my ass and he mentioned something about taking me – and I can convince him to take you – on for heists and shit. Think about it. Dan’s living off of money from my father’s bank account, not mine. I ran into the bank’s owner that night we came from the forest and if he finds out that my dad IS dead, that’s fraud. They’ll cut it and they’ll keep their eyes on me, and lord knows what happens if they find the bodies or the truck. We fucking need this, Tyger.” You're in Tyger's shoes. What do you do? Go with Tim to the meeting Let Tim go to the meeting himself Category:Blog posts